Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are property of Stephanie Meyer...the original plot is mine (Clarissa Frey)

A/N: For maximum emotion peak, listen to "Burn For You" by John Farnham- I wrote this chapter whilst listening to it on repeat.

Chapter Fourteen

Bella's World

Dear Jasper,

Please, please, if you receive this, reply. I need to know you are all right.

Love,

Bella

This letter was the 20th that I would have sent in two weeks. Even though history had been made, the red circle marked, what could be the end of an entire existence-that red circle, if- when confirmed, would end something inside of me.

As much as I wanted to believe, I knew that Jasper wouldn't reply. I sat at my desk, feeling my tears streaming down my face. Major Jasper Whitlock, my Jasper was dead, shot to the ground and then stabbed to death. How I loathed the man that had done that, loathing didn't quite cut it, I hated the man that killed him.

How I loathed that I didn't exist in the 19th century. It was the first time I truly hated myself and I hated myself even more that I hadn't realized, hadn't wanted to realize my true feelings sooner.

Then, three days later, a letter came. My hands shook to open it as I stared at the unfamiliar writing.

To Miss Isabella,

I write to you today to inform you that Major Jasper Whitlock has been killed in action, two weeks previously to this day. I regret to be the one to inform you this and my condolences, I know of your attachment with Jasper, the Major, for he spoke often of you and your antics.

On a personal note, I was close friends with Jasper and I can say with much authority on the matter, that he loved you very much and held you high in his esteem. His affection for you was great, anyone could tell this from the way he spoke of you.

His body has been sent back to his home in Texas ( I trust you know where) for burial. I will include his the address of his parents, should you wish to write to request to attend his funeral, I will be in attendance myself- it would be a honour and pleasure to finally know you in person.

Once again, I am so sorry to inform you of this terrible and sad event,

Sincerely

…………..

Tears marred the name of the soul who wrote to me, informing me of Jasper's inevitable death, as I put my head in my hands and cried and cried. The shock had passed, it was beginning to sink in- Jasper would never write to me again. I burned for him, I needed him- to see his strong, cursive hand writing and, I found my heart breaking as I realized that, already I was missing him a lot more than I ever thought capable.

Finally, I gathered the courage to write a letter that deserved to be sent...or attempted to anyway.

Dear Mister and Misses Whitlock,

You probably do not know about me, but, your son and I formed a romantic attachment, through the accidental deliverance of a letter to him.

I cannot possibly imagine the grief yourselves and your family could be feeling over the loss of your son, but I write to express my sympathies.

I do not know if what I am about to say will give some comfort, but I want to tell the both of you that Jasper spoke often of you and his younger siblings in his letters to me and his regret at not being able to see his siblings and yourselves and being unable to write to you. He loved you very much and appreciated everything that you ever did for him.

I was invited to his funeral by his close friend, Thomas, but I regrettably am unable to attend, as I would in all probability wouldn't survive the trip to Texas, I would, in time dearly love to visit his grave with your permission.

I am enclosing the photograph that he sent to me, which was taken in September, 1861. I do hope you will treasure it.

Yours,

Isabella Swan

-Three months later-

I trekked through the cemetery, walking further and further away from the entrance, literally, walking through time. Following the directions on the piece of paper, I walked past five graves and then came to a stop.

I read Jasper's name on the stone.

Tears blurred as I looked down at the grave. I sat down next to the stone and laid the single daisy at the base of the tombstone and walked away…

Months past, they fly by and I lose count of the days and then, I find myself staring at the red circle on my calendar, dated from a year ago. I shake my head, feeling warmth around me and I pick up my phone to call Jessica.

Three days later, I receive a phone call- it was the curator from the civil war museum that I had visited, a little over a year ago.

"I wanted to know, if you were still researching for your college assignment?"

She asked me. intrigued, I had to tell more white lies- I had completed my assignment, but I was still willing to view more information.

"A letter was found in our records, that I think you would very much like to take a look at- of course, you know much about this mysterious Isabella Swan- this letter is addressed to her, the only one we have"

I nodded. I had changed my last name to Dwyer- my mother's last name. I was anxious to know what the letter said- considering that it mentioned me.

Before I knew it, I was back in Texas, in the museum, sitting down with my notebook and pencil, under the pretence of taking notes, when in actual fact, I wanted to know what was in the letter. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my pencil in my hand and pulled the folder towards me. I opened it and found clear plastic enclosing a daisy- larger than the one I had pressed and mailed to Jasper- it was a different kind, I read the label- a native daisy to Texas and I smiled at his thoughtfulness, one last, small but meaningful gift.

Dearest Bella,

So here we are, the last letter that I'll ever write to you.

I don't know if you'll ever receive this letter, but, as the date suggests, I am writing on the day that I am going to die.

I can all but see you sitting at your writing desk or perhaps even in Texas, reading this letter and shaking your head, wondering how I know any of this. But I will say no more. Perhaps it were your letters? You may not have realized it, but, for quite some time after your first visit to my homeland that you signed your letters as if I were never going to reply.

Sitting here, I hear and see Thomas beside me, cleaning our rifles and its hard to picture, to think what I wish to say to you, so I will start at the beginning:

You cannot begin to imagine how fortunate and grateful I was to receive your first letter, even though it were a mistake (in theory), sent to the 'wrong address' (how such a mix up could be made, we shall never know) and, how we continued to correspond, regardless.

Your antics never ceased to amuse me, even when you meant to cause offence, one could say that was when my affections for you began to take root, even when you did call me a psychopath and I so desired to throttle you at times.

Then, when I first saw your portrait that your girlfriends sent to me with one of your letters, I had pledged not to inform you of such an act, please do not insult them or be made at their actions, I am gladdened that they did what they did, you see.

Your first (and might I add only) visit, never before has anyone done such a thing and though I wasn't there to show you my home, my family (of course) I have never been so flattered that you travelled so far and that you experienced such sadness over knowing my history.

I do not have much time- we ride out in but half hour, precisely quarter of eleven and, you know that actions always have always spoken louder than words. I want you to know that if I were in your company, I so very would dearly want to kiss you, to hold you in my arms and whisper these words in your beautiful, perfect ears.

Thank you for bringing life and sun to my world, for your company. Do not dwell on the past my Isabella, continue travelling forward, continue to live, perhaps, in another world we will finally meet, perhaps not. You are special to me Bella and you always will be. I know that you will be upset to be reading this, I wish that you wouldn't sorrow so, I am willing to face my death.

With all the love that I possess within my heart,

Major Jasper Whitlock

I dropped the letter, touched at his efforts to communicate with me, to comfort me knowing that he would die on that very day. I stood up, folded the letter hurriedly and put it in my bag. The museum was deserted. I left quickly, running for my car, my blurry vision causing me to trip on unseen obstacles.

I drove, speeding towards the address where Jasper was buried, running through the cemetery searching frantically as I ran further and further away from the entrance, I slowed as I spotted the year of his death and turned down a row.

Then I saw the grave- old and crumbling away at the edges, shakily, I made my way to the grave, where I read the writing on the stone and even then, I saw his love for me shine through and I collapsed, sobbing, hugging the gravestone with all my might, the closest I could get to my Jasper.

And I began talking, telling him that I had gotten his last letter to me and anything and everything that came to my mind. As day turned to Twilight, I heard footsteps and I turned, surprised to see Angela standing there.

"Your dad rang me, he said that there was something off when you decided to drive to Texas, he was worried, but he didn't want to interfere."

I nodded, a surge of affection for my father and Angela going through me. Angela studied the grave.

"This is Jasper Whitlock?"

She asked incredulously, taking note of the date of death. I nodded and dug out all the letters from my bag. I owed her an explanation. At the end of it all, she read Jasper's final letter to me.

"Well, you're going to have to write one last letter don't ya think?"

She asked me. I swallowed, fresh tears falling at the very thought of writing and not receiving a response again. She handed me a pen and I found a piece of paper that I had brought with me to take notes, to keep in with my assignment cover and I began to write my last letter

Dearest Jasper…

A/N: Betcha you weren't expecting this were ya guys (except for maybe Endless Raindrops and Lethar- my loving 'stalkers' 3)?